


Backwards from Go

by atimi (bertee)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Attempted Seduction, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-15
Updated: 2009-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/atimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared was pretty sure true love wasn't meant to be this awkward. Sure, he knew his childhood ideals were never going to come true, given that Jensen wasn't a princess in jeopardy and Jared was no longer afraid of sprinklers, but he never expected love to require so much effort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backwards from Go

**Author's Note:**

> A remix of [he drives me fuckin' crazy](http://alasse.livejournal.com/87136.html) by [alasse](http://alasse.livejournal.com).

Jared fell in love with Jensen the day after Jensen moved in.

The day Jensen actually moved in was spent in a drunken stupor after their celebratory toast had turned into celebratory toasts, plural, and a tequila shot contest had been held to determine which of them was most manly and therefore most deserving of the master bedroom. Unsurprisingly, Jensen lost and even though he thought Jensen wouldn't have evicted him from his bedroom if he'd been the one to win, Jared still took great pleasure in loudly proclaiming his love for his giant, comfortable bed while Jensen settled grouchily with the dogs on the air mattress in the spare room.

(Jared had narrowly avoided throwing up on his giant, comfortable bed when the tequila came back for an encore in the morning, but he'd chosen not to share that information with Jensen.)

Therefore, the day after Jensen moved in, when their hangovers had lessened enough to allow them to function in society, they'd headed out to buy Jensen a bed.

When Jared imagined falling in love (because yes, that had been an important concern when he was six), he'd imagined something big and dramatic like in the movies. He'd imagined rescuing a princess from a dragon or a wicked witch or a sprinkler, gazing into her eyes, planting a sloppy kiss on her lips, and falling so deeply in love that he'd never consider kissing anyone else again. He'd revised this opinion over the years - stretching the limitations to include princes as well as princesses, eliminating sprinklers once he'd conquered his phobia, adding mind-blowing sex to the previously chaste kissing - but he'd still kept the idea of some great, romantic moment.

He was therefore surprised when the moment came on a Sunday afternoon in the middle of IKEA.

Jensen had tested out the bouncability of the mattress on a lavish sleigh-bed and was now stretched out across a low double bed with a simple metal frame. There were dark circles under his eyes; his hair looked like it had been combed by a toddler; his underwear was peeking over the top of his jeans; and Jared realized he was completely, stupidly, inexplicably in love with him.

Love had sucky timing.

Not only did it make shopping for beds really uncomfortable, especially when Jensen damn near purred every time he was horizontal, but it managed to put a damper on the awesomeness of them moving in together. Jared now had no way of coming on to Jensen or even trying to gauge interest without seeming like a douche at best, or at worst a creepy perv who asked his buddy to live with him and then harassed him for sex.

He tried to put it behind him, to write the butterflies in his stomach and the tug in his chest off as indigestion and heartburn, but love was a stubborn fucker and would not be denied.

+++

As the weeks wore on and after he remained at a loss as to what to do, Jared decided to ask the audience (or more specifically, the crew) for help with his Jensen issues.

He picked a day with a relatively low workload and meandered around set, exchanging candy for relationship advice.

Unfortunately, when faced with Jared's solemn expression and the statement, "I think I'm in love with Jensen," people were not as useful as Jared had anticipated.

Clif cracked up. Jared didn't know people could laugh for that long without needing to stop for oxygen.

Eric looked terrified but managed the somewhat redundant order, "Keep it off the screen and we're all good," as if Jared was actually going to have Sam Winchester make out with his brother on camera. (He'd at least save it for sweeps.)

Sera's eyes lit up at the information but she dashed away, pen clutched in her hand, before Jared could explain that this was a bad thing.

Jim just snorted and said, "No shit, Sherlock."

Jensen's stunt double, Todd, had given him some useful, grown-up suggestions on how to maintain a personal and professional balance when dating a co-star. Sadly, he'd been unable to give any suggestions on how Jared should get his co-star to actually agree to date him in the first place.

Misha's trailer smelled of weed and Jared knew he'd end up ignoring whatever advice Misha offered, even before he was told to "Consult the otters."

And so he was left with Genevieve. Jared was already predisposed towards thinking good things about Genevieve after she'd turned up on set that morning in what looked like the warmest, most comfortable knit-sweater in the history of the world. Since Jared knew he wouldn't be able to get more than an arm inside the sweater without ripping it to shreds, Genevieve had agreed to sit next to him and be cuddled while Jared consulted her on his dilemma.

Drinking her coffee around Jared's full-body hug, she suggested, "Maybe you should let him come to you?"

Jared sighed. "I've been working with him for more than three years. I moved him into my house. It's not exactly been hard for him to get to me if he wanted me. I am the red flag to his bull; see me wave."

He flapped his arms in demonstration. Genevieve looked a little afraid.

"But you weren't interested before now, right?" she asked. "He could've been picking up on that and thinking you didn't want him. Like, Bull Jensen thought you were a blue flag and was so busy ignoring you and not thinking about you being a flag that he missed you turning red." She smiled at him with enthusiasm and Jared was reminded that yes, normal people who weren't Jensen could be cheerful pre-coffee. "You have to make him want you."

That sounded complex and he guessed, confused, "By playing hard to get?"

"That depends." She put on a mock-earnest expression. "Are you trying to get the star quarterback to ask you to the prom?"

"No-"

"Then no, Jared, you don't need to play hard to get." Genevieve rolled her eyes. "You want to let him make the first move so you know he's interested but that doesn't mean you can't encourage him into it." A mischievous smirk played on her lips. "Show him what he's missing."

+++

After considering Genevieve's advice carefully, Jared decided to implement a five step plan to accomplish his goals.

He realized that there wasn't much Jensen was missing - they'd worked together for long enough that he was well-acquainted with all aspects of Jared's personality (and almost all of his bodily functions) - but figured that Jensen needed a perception adjustment to stop seeing Jared as just a friend and to consider the possibility of him being something more.

Obviously, if Jensen still wasn't interested, Jared fully intended to back off. He planned to enter into an enjoyable but emotionally meaningless relationship with a casual partner (like, say, Genevieve and her cuddly sweaters) until he'd gotten over his heartbreak, but before that, he needed to know once and for all whether Jensen could ever have a physical attraction to him.

In short, his five step plan was to convince Jensen that he was hot.

Step One involved their home gym.

A variety of porn movies (and repeated viewings of Dodgeball) had taught Jared that an all-male workout environment was second only to experimental college fraternities in levels of blatant homoeroticism, and so the next morning, in the hour before their 11am call time, he tried to coax Jensen into the gym with him, gently and tactfully reminding him of his upcoming love scene next month.

"Y'know, the camera adds ten pounds."

With his mouth full of pastry, Jensen looked like an offended hamster as he retorted between chomps, "Fuck you."

"You don't want to look fat," Jared pointed out helpfully, "and I don't want you to look fat either because I'm an amazing friend. Come work out with me for a while."

Jensen looked mournfully at the bag of pastries. "But my breakfast..."

"No." Jared put on his stern face. He'd been practicing how to work out in the most attractive way and was not about to let his efforts go to waste because Jensen was overly concerned with baked goods. "No more breakfast. Come work out."

To Jared's relief, after letting out a long-suffering sigh, Jensen allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and shepherded through to the gym Jared had lovingly installed when he'd bought the house. Harley yapped happily from the kitchen and Jared suspected Jensen's breakfast wouldn't be there when he returned.

Hands on Jensen's arms, he teased, "Now, if I let you go, you gonna warm up or you gonna make a beeline for the damn pastries?"

Jensen sulked but relented, "I'll warm up."

Releasing him, Jared headed over to the weight bench and lay back with the cocky comment, "Since I'm already warmed up, I guess you can just watch me." He grinned and teased, "Call it inspiration. You work out enough and one day you can look like me."

Jensen feigned amazement. "You mean one day I can have a forehead as big as yours?"

In Jared's opinion, having a large forehead was something to be proud of, right up there with winning an Olympic gold medal, eating chili peppers, and being able to get a dolphin to leap through a hoop. "You wish."

Hands closing round the metal bar above him, he took a deep breath, remembered the optimum angles for attractiveness, and began lifting.

It turned out that he did actually need to concentrate when bench-pressing in excess of two hundred pounds. Unable to monitor Jensen's reaction to his workout, he nevertheless took it as a good sign when all he could hear was his own breathing through his reps and the clank of metal when the bar was finally replaced on the pins.

As always, his body relished the opportunity to sweat and when he sat up to check on Jensen, his hair was sticking to his forehead and his gray tee was already getting damp from the exertion.

None of that seemed to matter when he caught sight of Jensen's face.

If he hadn't known better, he'd have sworn there was something close to lust in Jensen's eyes. His lips were parted, like he'd intended to say something before his words had been snatched away, and one of his arms was lifted across his chest in a half-finished stretch. Jared's hopes sparked briefly but he was reminded that this was only step one of five when Jensen asked, sounding impressed, "How much weight was on that?"

"Two-forty," he answered, aiming for casual. "I can manage over three hundred sometimes but I thought I'd take it easy. Wouldn't want you to get jealous."

Jensen rolled his eyes but Jared assumed the undertone in his voice was one of jealousy anyway as he said, "That's a pretty impressive weight there, champ."

Jared eyed him up. "What're you: one-eighty, one-ninety?"

"Hey, I'm shorter than you, remember?" Jensen puffed his chest out a little. "One-seventy-five."

He grinned. "I could lift you easy enough."

"What?" Suddenly Jensen looked much less smug about being lighter. "You are not bench-pressing me, dude. One because I just woke up-"

"You've been up for nearly an hour-"

"And two," Jensen continued with determination, "because you are not a circus strongman and I am not your cute blonde assistant. No, dude. I'm not gonna be fuckin' bench-pressed."

"C'mon," he pleaded hopefully. "I might not even manage to lift you; then you can gloat all you want."

As predicted, Jensen could never turn down an opportunity for gloating and wavered, "But you'll drop me..."

"What are you, a kid? I'm not going to drop you."

"You drop kids?"

"What? No." He waved it away. "Come on. One lift and then you can go back to your breakfast and I'll work out on my own."

Pastries and gloating were a winning combination and Jensen surrendered, "Fine but if you drop me and break my face, we're telling Kripke you knocked me down the stairs or something. This does not leave this room."

"Agreed." He beamed. "Now come on."

Somehow, they managed to get the actual weights off and Jensen on, with Jared taking most of his weight with hands on his ass and upper back while Jensen grabbed onto the pins for balance. Once he was as close to stable as he was going to get, he looked at Jared with trepidation, asking, "You sure you're going to- Fuck!"

He wobbled precariously when Jared started to lift, arms trembling as he raised Jensen higher. The weight felt so much heavier when it was in the form of a warm, squishy human (albeit one with a great ass) instead of a cold metal bar and so they were both surprised when Jared's arms extended above him, Jensen still balanced on top.

"Holy shit..." he murmured, fighting to control his strength and his breathing.”Told you I could do it."

Jensen was apparently too panicked to argue and managed the tight reply, "Great, now put me dow-"

He fell before he could finish speaking.

Jared was reminded of the advantages of the slim, controllable, and easily balanced metal bar when Jensen came crashing down on him, chest impacting with Jared's stomach. He winced at the sound of Jensen's knees smacking into the floor and looked up at him with a grin, winded but victorious.

That victory was only diminished slightly when Jensen pointed an accusing finger at him and despite being reluctantly impressed, announced, "You're never lifting me up again."

Limping a little, he headed back to the kitchen and to whatever Harley hadn't scarfed down while Jared slumped back across the bench, sad that Step One had mostly been a failure.

It wasn't until two weeks later when Jensen (as Dean) leaped enthusiastically into his arms mid-scream that Jared thought he might have been a little successful after all.

+++

"I love bananas."

Jensen glanced up from next week's script. "I'm happy for you."

"Seriously, dude," Jared continued, ignoring the sarcasm. "They're the best fruit ever. They're banana-y."

"Banana-y?"

"Yup." Peeling back the skin of the banana, Jared held it up with a smile. "Very banana-y."

In all honesty, he didn't have strong feelings on bananas one way or another but Step Two required him to be somehow sexually alluring with said fruit and it was difficult to do that if Jensen wasn't at least looking at him while he was fellating a banana. Hence the bad dialogue.

"Mmm. They're so hard." (It helped to think of it as porn for fruits.) "And big and delicious."

"Jared, I don't need a blow-by-blow description of your banana."

Deciding that was totally an appropriate word choice, he opted to give in to his six-year-old tendencies and pestered, "Hey, Jensen, how much of it d'you think I can get in my mouth at once?"

Jensen stared at him. "Please tell me you're high right now."

"S'a valid question." He made a notch with his thumb about half the way down the banana. "I think I can get to here."

"No way. You'll be an inch away from that at best."

Jared smirked. "Wanna bet?"

"Really no," Jensen replied dryly. Crucially, he didn't go back to his script but instead kept his eyes on Jared and the banana as he took a breath and began the insertion.

It turned out that deep-throating a banana was a lot harder than he anticipated.

He'd never really tried it before, having been content with the phallic imagery involved in placing only the tip in his mouth and eating it slowly rather than attempting to swallow it whole. It was oddly cool against the back of his tongue and the fruit was only getting squishier the longer in held it in but, to Jared's surprise, his mouth was apparently a lot bigger than he'd thought.

With his thumb still held against the marker he'd made, he pushed the banana further in, cheeks hollowing and nostrils flaring as he tried to breathe, and to his relief, his thumbnail nudged against his lower lip.

He bit down in triumph, sounding out a victory cry around the banana in his mouth, but soon wished his mouth wasn't so full since it stopped him from voicing any kind of query or protest when Jensen cleared his throat awkwardly and stammered, "I, uh, need to go use the bathroom."

Step Two wasn't working so well either.

+++

His next two stages required outside help and so for Step Three, Jared enlisted Misha.

Since Misha was to plans what a box of kittens was to a work environment - entertaining but astonishingly unproductive - Jared didn't actually tell him what he'd been enlisted for and instead turned up in his trailer out of the blue with the earnest request, "Teach me yoga?"

Still Castielified, Misha tilted his head in confusion.

At least it wasn't a no.

"C'mon, man," Jared persisted. "You think we didn't check out your IMDB page when you started here? You're like some awesome Tibetan yoga master. Share the knowledge."

Like so many other actors, Misha was easily swayed by compliments. "I'm not really a master-"

"I bet you're close enough," Jared suggested shamelessly. Apparently he could pretend to flirt with other guys just fine; it was only flirting with Jensen that caused problems. "Come on, dude. Show me some moves."

Misha checked his watch and shrugged. "Okay but I need to go be menacing in twenty minutes."

Jared decided not to enquire whether that referred to onscreen menace or general intimidation on his own time.

Misha backed into his trailer. "Come in. We can start with some easy poses."

Not budging from the bottom of the stairs, Jared blurted out, "Let's stay outside." At Misha's bemused expression, he elaborated, "I mean, it's a nice day. We could, uh, get some fresh air while we're doing yoga." Summoning up all the enthusiasm of a children's television presenter, he waved his hand towards a patch of grass and exclaimed, "Look, we could do it there!"

At his suspicious stare, Jared sent up a quick prayer that Misha hadn't noticed him pleading, cajoling or bribing the crew in order to get them to leave a small area of grass untouched.

(A small area of grass which was conveniently close to where Jensen was angsting or growling or doing whatever else Dean did.)

Whatever qualms he had about half-guiding, half-dragging Misha over to the area in question were soon dispensed with when Misha became happier with their surroundings and meditated on the grass for a long five minutes in his trenchcoat, barely moving except to adjust his pants.

When he started the actual yoga, Jared had absolutely no guilt at all about strongarming him over there since he'd apparently taken it upon himself to manhandle Jared's body into the most uncomfortable positions known to mankind. He'd then step back, replicate the pose as though it was child's play while Jared was a quivering heap of agony, and instruct him calmly to, "Hold it for five slow breaths. Feel the peace of the earth soak up through your feet."

Nine times out of ten, Jared couldn't actually feel his feet and was too focused on whether his knees were supposed to bend at that angle to worry about anything soaking up from the earth. He managed not to give into the temptation to tell Misha that this was crazy shit designed for people with no spines, muscles or internal organs, and kept as straight a face as he could while he listened out for the magic word from the crew and tried not to die in the process.

When Charles, the director, finally yelled, "And cut! One hour break for lunch, guys!", it was like a religious experience. If Jesus had beamed down to Earth at that moment (because in Jared's mind, Jesus was almost like Spock), Jared would've told him to get in line since he'd have been too busy worshipping Charles.

Misha helped push him into another pose and Jared found himself looking up between his own ankles as Jensen wandered over, baffled.

Dammit, Jensen even looked hot from upside down.

"What're you guys doing?"

Since Jared figured his voicebox was somewhere around his lower intestine, he was glad when Misha answered for him, "Jared asked me to teach him some yoga positions. He's exceedingly flexible."

Just in case he ever doubted it, Jared reminded himself silently that he fucking loved Misha.

Jensen's gaze raked over him and although he had no idea which of his body parts were most visible to bystanders right then, Jared privately hoped his ass was a little on display, given Jensen's approving eyebrow raise. "Wow. Didn't know you could bend like that, dude."

Jared grinned stupidly and Misha again spoke for him, "Yoga helped to stretch the mind as well as the body. Feel free to join us if you want."

Somehow, Jared didn't picture Jensen as a yoga kind of guy. This opinion was soon shown to be correct when Jensen backed off with a grimace. "Yoga's not really my thing; Danneel talked me into trying it once and I couldn't walk straight for four days afterwards."

Jared's mind went to inappropriate places and had such a good time there that he almost missed the question, "I'm heading for lunch though if you guys wanna come with?"

Misha shook his head. He was in the zone. "I don't like to leave in the middle of a conversation with Mother Nature. Bad things could happen."

Jensen looked skeptical. "Bad things like...?"

Misha closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. "Badgers."

It was a testament to how quickly Jensen adapted to new guest stars that he didn't even bat an eyelid. "'Kay. Jared?"

"I'll be right there." He wriggled helplessly, not sure which way was up. "Give me a hand?"

Miraculously, Jensen located one of his hands and pulled him to his feet with a sharp tug. The experience was a little like being a piece of spaghetti dangling from a fork and Jared stumbled when he made it upright, staggering into Jensen.

"Whoa." Jensen's hand rested on his chest and his arm came underneath his shoulders for a measure of support. "Take it easy, man."

"I'm good," Jared lied, still seeing stars. (And fish. And parakeets.) "Just need to get some more sugar in me."

"Let's get you to craft then," Jensen soothed. "Rumor is they've got Peeps today."

"Mmm, Peeps..."

Letting Jensen take some of his weight, he allowed himself to be guided over to the waiting food, realizing that between the candy and the attention from Jensen, Step Three had turned out pretty well.

+++

Jared had nicknamed Step Four the Kane Step.

This wasn't because it involved Christian Kane in any capacity, because calling Kane up for advice about Jensen was like calling up someone's father and asking them for the best way to get their son and/or daughter into bed with him. No, it was called the Kane Step because Jared really needed someone to do for him what Kane did for Jensen.

On his rare visits to the Great White North, aside from eating all his Cheetos and stealing Jared's seat on the couch, Kane had a habit of getting drunk off his ass at two in the afternoon and then oversharing like a motherfucker, usually with information about Jensen.

For someone who liked his privacy, Jensen seemed surprisingly relaxed about Kane's disclosure policy and would just absent himself from the room while Jared was filled in on the details of Jensen's sex life, his preferred breakfast foods, his violent dislike for yellow paint, and the unfortunate selection of hats he owned between 2000 and 2003.

Jared was usually able to brush off this information but now that the pesky feelings of love had emerged, he found that he was obsessing over Kane's praise of Jensen's talents in the bedroom. (He was only stopped from killing Kane in a fit of jealousy by the assurance that all this knowledge came from other sources.)

Since Jared now knew Jensen was gay, hot and dynamite in bed, he needed to ensure that Jensen had the same knowledge about him. The gay and hot parts were pretty much a given but even Jared's admittedly substantial narcissism did not make him able to boast effectively about his sexual prowess in everyday conversation.

That was where Genevieve came in.

As Jared loitered behind a wall to eavesdrop on the conversation she was currently conducting with Jensen, he was starting to consider building a small shrine, complete with fireworks and a handmade collage, in honor of the wonderfulness of Genevieve Cortese.

It was like being in a real-life version of Mean Girls (only less mean and with fewer girls) as he listened to Genevieve put into action the plan they'd constructed earlier.

"He just wasn't interested in me," she said sadly. "And I know I've got Adam now, and we're happy together, but I feel like I missed an opportunity, you know?"

He heard Jensen clear his throat. "With Jared?"

"You should hear some of the rumors about him," Genevieve murmured breathily. "People say his stamina's incredible..."

"People? Who, uh- How many people?"

"Reliable people," she promised and seemed to anticipate the pitfalls before avoiding them, "Not a ton of people - he's not the kind of guy to sleep around like that - but there were a select few that he felt strongly for." Her voice got lower, more alluring. "They say he's super patient when it comes to sex. He takes it slow, kissing you and holding you and then using those huge, gentle hands to just-" She laughed shyly. "Well, you know."

Jared sketched out mental blueprints for his intended shrine.

"But he isn't going out with you?" Jensen asked hesitantly. "You seem great, Genevieve, but I don't know if I can convince Jared to date someone."

"Oh, no, I don't want to date him," Genevieve said too quickly, but corrected, "I mean, I'd have loved to date him if I could but I've got Adam now. Plus," she whispered as though divulging a big secret, "word is that he's in love with someone else."

"Jared's in love with someone?" He could hear the frown in Jensen's voice. "But he's not dating anyone. I live with the guy - I figured I'd have noticed if he had a girlfriend."

"Or a boyfriend," Genevieve chimed in subtly. "People are saying it's a guy he's pining after."

Jared objected to the use of the word 'pining' but kept quiet to let her work her magic.

"They even think he works here."

"Here?" Jensen's voice rose in pitch. "Jared's in love with a guy from set?"

"That's what I heard... You don't know who it is, do you?" she asked eagerly.

"No." Jared was relieved Jensen didn't guess at Kripke or Clif or anyone else from set, and he hoped he was smart enough to figure out who Genevieve was talking about. "I don't. Listen, are you sure about this?"

"One hundred percent," she confirmed. "Whoever the mystery guy is, I'm kinda jealous. I mean, have you seen Jared?!" Her voice lowered again. "He's all in proportion too."

That seemed like as good a place to stop as any and Jared stepped out from behind the wall, a wide, cheerful grin on his face as he ambled over to them. Jensen's cheeks were pink and Genevieve smirked at him when he stopped in front of them and asked, "You guys been into make-up yet?"

"I have," she volunteered, getting her to feet in preparation for a swift exit. "You can take Jensen to get prettied up with you."

She left in a hurry, leaving Jared alone with Jensen and leaving Jensen with good thoughts about Jared's prowess between the sheets.

Genevieve's shrine was going to be made out of fucking gold.

+++

In spite of Genevieve's stellar efforts, Jensen did not come forward with any declarations of love of his own and so Jared was forced to move onto Step Five.

Step Five wasn't the most intelligent, complex, or highbrow of steps but when he wandered into the den on Sunday morning, dressed only in sweatpants and with the dogs barking at his ankles, it had the desired effect.

Jensen's eyebrows shot up and his lips parted as his eyes traced a path down Jared's bare chest to where the sweatpants were sitting indecently low on his hips. He gulped, eyes glazing over for a second before his usual sarcastic nonchalance was back in place. "You forget to get dressed this morning, Jay?"

Jared shrugged, dropping to a seat on the couch and scratching behind Sadie's ears. "Didn't see the point. M'not goin' out anywhere today and I got laundry that needs doing." He looked down at himself and feigned concern, "I can go put a shirt on if it's a problem?"

He knew it would've been easy for Jensen to object, to make some crack about how Jared was giving him an inferiority complex and how he should go put on a shirt for the sake of Jensen's (perfectly healthy) self-esteem. He took it as an important sign when Jensen said nothing of the sort, commenting casually, "Doesn't bother me, man."

Happy that Jensen had some interest in looking at him (or at least didn't not want to look at him), Jared stretched out on the couch as the dogs settled on the floor. Arms crossed behind his head, he let his eyes fall shut and basked as though on a tan bed; Jensen's presumably appreciative staring was a lot less cancerous than UV rays.

His eyes flew open again a second later when he heard the squeak of Jensen levering himself off the leather sofa.

He frowned at him. "Where you going?"

"I- I'm going to, uh, call my family," Jensen called from the hall. "Told my mom I'd call this weekend."

"Say hey from me," Jared yelled back, defeat hitting him in the chest like a fist when Jensen disappeared around the corner to the phone.

Slumping back on the couch, he figured he might as well take the setback graciously and closed his eyes, hoping that maybe another five step plan would come to him in his sleep, this time to help him get over Jensen.

+++

When Jared woke up two hours later, it wasn't to any kind of inspiration but rather to the delicious and unmistakable smell of warm cookies.

Sadie was nudging a wet nose against his hand which had been hanging off the couch in his sleep, clearly angling for some of that hot cookie action, and Jared pushed himself to his feet with a groan before following his eager dog on a cookie hunt.

Harley was already in the kitchen, circling Jensen's ankles with a whine as he lifted the freshly baked cookies onto a cooling rack.

"You made cookies?"

Jensen whirled round at Jared's question. He looked a little embarrassed at being caught in the 'Kiss the Cook' apron usually reserved for Clif but smiled anyway when Sadie and Harley joined forces to stare up at him pleadingly.

"Yep. Fresh batch of twenty-four." He stared back down at the dogs and said in apology, "Sorry, guys, they're chocolate chip. None for you this time." Sadie whimpered and Jensen pouted in sympathy. "I know, girl. Go sulk at your Daddy and maybe he'll take you down to Granville Island for treats."

"Hey, don't make me the responsible parent here," Jared protested, reaching around him to snag a cookie from the tray.

Jensen didn't reply, moving to the fridge instead, and when Jared popped the cookie into his mouth, he understood why.

"Umch! S'ot!"

Jensen rolled his eyes. "Genius."

Nevertheless, he turned back from the fridge to offer Jared a glass of milk and if his mouth hadn't been on fire, Jared would probably have kissed him. As it was, he settled for taking the glass and chugging down the milk, suspecting that the cookies had actually been sculpted out of chili peppers masquerading as non-lethal snacks.

The cooling qualities of the milk kicked in and the cookies ended up being surprisingly tasty when they weren't causing him physical pain.

His groans of suffering turned into low moans of enjoyment as he chewed, swallowed, and declared without thinking, "Dude, I love you."

Jensen smirked, scooping the rest of the cookies onto the cooling rack. "Love you too, man."

Jared heard the thunk of the plastic spatula being dropped on the metal rack and they both froze at the same time as their brains caught up to their mouths.

Jared's brain kept moving, picturing them both brushing it off and carrying on any second now and wanting desperately to stop it before they got to that point.

"I do," he blurted out.

Jensen turned to face him, barely containing his panic, and Jared stumbled onward blindly.

"I do," he repeated, praying he wasn't about to ruin their friendship for good. "Love you, that is." He took a breath. "I love you, Jensen."

"Love?" Jared was pretty sure Jensen's eyes couldn't get any wider. "Like you love peanut butter or-"

"Like I love something more important than peanut butter," Jared corrected, still having no idea where this was going. "Real love, y'know? Like hearts and rainbows and unicorns and all that shit. But manlier. Manly love. But still gay."

Jensen swallowed hard. "You're in manly, gay, unicorn love with me."

Jared shrugged helplessly. "Pretty much, yeah."

"Since when?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, he dropped his eyes to the floor as he admitted, "Since IKEA."

"IKEA?"

"I know it was months ago," he continued, becoming more and more dejected with each passing second. "I suck, okay? I suck at talking about this shit and I didn't know whether you'd even feel the same and-"

"One day."

Jared's head snapped up and he frowned. "One day what?"

Jensen was smiling now, the blush of embarrassment that had appeared on his cheeks slowly fading away as he explained, "I got you beat by one day. I caught on at some point between our third and fourth tequilas on the night I moved in."

"Caught on-" This was too much to process. "You mean I'm not being some creepy, deluded housemate here? You-" Somehow the word was harder to say when it was coming from someone else and he settled for the less direct route, "You feel the same way?"

Jensen's smile grew wider. "Guess so. The manly, gay, unicorn love is mutual."

"Wow." The statement filtered deeper into Jared's mind and he reiterated, "Wow." He cleared his throat. "So, uh, what happens now? We run off and get gay married or something?"

Jensen chuckled. "We might wanna have sex first. Just throwing it out there."

"Psht. Did you not hear everything I had Genevieve tell you? I'm awesome at sex."

"You put her up to that?"

"It was her idea," Jared argued, not wanting to make Jensen stop loving him quite yet.

Luckily, Jensen didn't seem that fazed. "Guess Chris tells you all about me, huh? Me getting a little inside info isn't that much of a bad thing."

Moving in closer, Jared rested his hands on Jensen's hips, enjoying the freedom to finally being able to get as close to him as he'd wanted to. "Was Chris telling me the truth?" he teased, sliding his thumbs through the belt-loops of Jensen's jeans and slipping his fingertips up past the apron and under his tee. "You like when guys-"

"Hey," Jensen cut in playfully. "You're going to have to find that out for yourself, man. I don't put out that easy."

It seemed backward, going from love to sex talk to kissing, but Jared figured that neither of them had ever been the type to do things by the book. Jensen's hand came up to the back of his neck, fingers threading through Jared's hair, and his bare torso met Jensen's flour-covered apron as their lips brushed together in a kiss.

It was slow and lazy, tongues and lips and teeth testing angles and speeds until they slotted together perfectly, any awkwardness disappearing in the pleasure of the kiss. The dogs were snuffling around for crumbs, the kitchen smelled of fresh baking, Jensen's stubble scraped lightly at his palm as he lifted his hand to cup his cheek and Jared didn't think he'd been happier. He almost sighed into the kiss, weeks of tension and nerves and self-doubt ebbing out of him as their bodies relaxed into each other like they'd been designed that way.

Never wanting to let go, Jared decided that this was what he'd imagined as a kid when he'd thought about love. True, there were no dramatic sprinkler-rescues involved but from the warm contentment filling every inch of him, he figured this was even better.

Manly, gay, unicorn love was definitely the way to go.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] Backwards from Go](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5700091) by [exmanhater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exmanhater/pseuds/exmanhater)




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